


Save Me Now

by IcyPanther



Series: Got Your Back [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: And his sibling here is Keith, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blade of Marmora Keith (Voltron), Blade of Marmora Missions, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Hurt Matt Holt, Hurt/Comfort, Interrogation, Keith (Voltron) Angst, Keith (Voltron) Whump, Matt Holt Angst, Matt Holt Whump, Matt Holt is a Good Sibling, Matt Holt needs more tags, Platonic Relationships, Torture, Violence, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-01 01:17:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21310594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IcyPanther/pseuds/IcyPanther
Summary: Matt’s Rebel team has been captured for information only their injured commander has access to. Matt knows what will happen if it falls into the wrong hands. He knows and he’s so so sorry to Katie who he was just reunited with, but he has to do this. He got the distress beacon out though so someone should come rescue him before he’s tortured to death, right?Meanwhile, Keith and his Blade of Marmora team receive said distress beacon, unknowing of the details. But, as Keith discovers, the details don’t matter. Only the life of a single commander does and that is who the Blades will be rescuing; not the other captured Rebels. Keith knows what he has to do and he’s sorry to Shiro and the other Paladins (although given how he left maybe… maybe this is for the best), but he’d rather go down rescuing an ally than abandoning them.And by the time this rescue mission concludes… more than one person may end up saved.
Relationships: Keith & Shiro (Voltron), Matt Holt & Keith, Matt Holt & Keith & Shiro
Series: Got Your Back [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1536319
Comments: 123
Kudos: 435





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> **Timeline notes:** Mid-season four  
**Warning notes:** Graphic violence, torture scenes.  
**Other notes:** This fic references the history of Keith and Matt in my pre-canon fic [Stand Together Now, Carry On](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15058478/chapters/34909862) which is a part of [The Burning Bright Series](https://archiveofourown.org/series/904857) although you do not need to read it to understand this story.

****“I’m the commander.”

“Wh-what?” the young Rebel’s voice cracked as she watched with six wide eyes as Matt hurriedly pulled his insignia off his belt and exchanged it for the one on the alien cradled in her large arms.

“I’m the commander,” Matt repeated, voice more calm than the rapid thudding in his heart would suggest. “When they ask you tell them that.”

And they would be there soon; Matt could hear the Galra furiously moving the rocks he’d sent plummeting down after them in the cave they had retreated to in an escort mission gone horribly wrong. Blobia and Miron were both dead, killed in the landing.

Faulker had been killed in the resulting shootout as Galra stormed the ship. 

Commander Plarion had been wounded, badly, but Ali’s strength despite her fears had borne him away while Matt covered them, managing to get off an encrypted signal just before the Galra’s canon had blown up the control board.

Help would come, Matt had no doubt about that as Commander Plarion was a vital figure in not just the Rebels but the Coalition _ and _he was the only one who knew the locations of every single Coalition base.

He was an invaluable resource and too dangerous to remain in Galra hands.

And somehow the Galra had found out. There could be no other reason their disguised transport ship had been chased after and ultimately shot down. Someone knew. Someone knew who Plarion was and what information he possessed. 

The Coalition had a rat.

Now was not the time though to figure it out. Right now Matt needed to _ think _on how to keep that information from falling into enemy hands. And he had an idea, even if it was one that made his stomach twist.

The only thing the Galra didn’t seem to know about the situation was _ who _the commander was, just knowing that he was aboard that ship, and the insignia given to him was the only way to determine it. The insignia Matt had just swapped with his own.

Plarion was tough as nails, Matt knew, and would rather die than betray the organization he had spent the last two hundred years of his life serving. But he was hurt, a head injury to top it off. Under the right circumstances, the right pressure, he might say something and then…

So many would die.

But Matt could stop it. 

He could hold out until the rescue arrived. He could pretend to be the commander.

He had to be.

Bright purple and yellow beams pierced into the dark cave.

Matt swallowed.

He could do this.

For his team.

For the universe.

For…

For Katie. 

Katie, who he had just been reunited with not even two weeks ago.

This would keep her safe. 

He stepped in front of Ali and Plarion, shielding them from the colored dots of laser guns and sharp, cruel yellow eyes and raised his arms up.

“I’m Commander Plarion,” he announced. “And if you promise not to hurt my team I’ll surrender.”

“Kneel,” came the snarl.

“My team—”

“_Kneel.” _

And praying he hadn’t just gotten the last two of his squadron killed, Matt knelt.

xxx

“We’ve received a distress beacon.” Even in the video feed Keith could feel the rumble in Kolivan’s voice and he felt the two other Blades in his scouting unit perk up.

Distress beacons were common when he’d been with Voltron. They were not common here as the Blades of Marmora did not engage often in rescue missions. They were assassins or spies, and they worked with either blood or information.

It was still jarring to Keith nearly two phoebs later.

So the fact Kolivan had deemed not only to contact them, set in a deep-stealth scout mission where they still had a movement to go and were not to have outside contact, but for the reason…

This distress beacon belonged to someone important.

Keith clenched his hands, trying not to give into the sudden, sharp fear that something had happened to Voltron, to Shiro.

“It was coded from Commandar Plarion of the Rebel Group.”

Keith felt nearly dizzy with relief that his old team was safe but… but he immediately understood the severity of the situation now at hand. He’d never met the famed commander but he’d heard much about his skills and knew how valuable he was to the organization.

He was in trouble?

“His ship was shot down and he is no doubt at this moment in enemy hands, there being a near two varga delay for the message to reach us through the encryption algorithms. I have the coordinates for his last known location and you are to dispatch immediately. This is a mission of the absolute highest priority,” and while Kolivan’s stare was always intense Keith felt there something even more to it this time.

A shiver ran down his spine.

“Should the Galra extract information from I trust you all understand the severity of what will happen to not just the Coalition but to all of our Blade members.”

Blade members who had families, who lived on bases protected by the information that Plarion knew. 

“And how,” Kojak asked, his voice a rasp behind his mask, “did the Galra Empire know to find Plarion?”

“We are looking into it.”

They had a spy.

And all three of the Blades Kolivan was addressing had been decided to be above reproach. Despite the circumstances Keith felt something warm in his chest at the sheer _ trust _that decision would have to have been made in and given that he hadn’t been with the Blades long at all…

It meant a lot.

And it had been…

Been a long time since Keith had felt such a thing. 

The thought soured the feeling, of remembered harsher words from Shiro that he had never expected, warnings that read almost more of threats to straighten up, to do better, to _ be _better, to the point where Keith had excused himself, had returned the Black Lion and the position of leader of Voltron to Shiro.

And thinking of Voltron made him think of the team, of… of his friends. Friends he hadn’t spoken to in over two weeks and it wasn’t just because he was on a covert mission (only three days in).

He shoved the pang away, the thought that maybe, just like everyone else had always been before in his life, that they were better off without him. Shiro had been the only one to ever give him that chance and through Shiro he’d met Matt and he felt another twist at the fact even now they had yet to find him, find Pidge’s dad either. He’d thought he might be able to help, working with a network of spies, but he had nothing to show for it and he felt a little worse each time he thought of the fact that while they all knew Matt had been freed from prison he could be _ anywhere _(he could be dead) and he couldn’t find answers for Pidge.

It was the least he could have done to make up for being such a poor leader.

Keith was grateful he was wearing his mask to hide the fact he had completely zoned out, and after Kolivan had just roundabout complimented him too, as his fellow Blades shifted into preparation of flight.

“—and remember,” Kolivan addressed them at large but Keith could feel that the gaze was directly on him, the message clear, “the mission comes first above all else. Rescue Plarion. And if you are unable to do so… then make it so the Galra do not learn what he knows. The safety of the entire Coalition is at stake.”

“Understood,” Kojak gave a sharp nod. 

Keith echoed it even as he felt a shudder down his spine for a different reason now.

This was being billed as a rescue mission, but…

But it wasn’t the only outcome.

And unlike Voltron…

The Blades would leave bodies in their wake.

The question was just how many it would be. 

xxx

“The coordinates of the Xinsthes System base. Speak.”

Matt determinedly kept his lips pressed together and his eyes focused on the wall beyond the hulking Galran in front of him.

“I think that’s another finger then.”

Matt’s already mangled left hand was lifted and he felt the pliers wrap around his thumb.

“Last chance, Commander,” the title said mockingly. “Speak.”

Matt said nothing.

He’d decided on the strategy of silence over snark to start as he felt it was more imposing of a famed commander such as Plarion and loose lips could lead to things being accidentally said. 

That, and honestly, the constant iteration to ‘speak’ made him feel like some dog and while Matt considered himself to have a hell of a good set of puppy eyes that could get him out of almost anything, he was no dog. 

The pliers squeezed.

Matt choked on the scream he was unable to hold back as bones and sinew twisted and he felt the _ snap _ as his thumb was not just broken but _ shattered _beneath the tool. 

That was the rest of his left hand. 

He refused to look at it.

They’d broken each finger and that was after they’d pried off each nail and he could feel blood, hot and slick, from where the blade had dug into flesh in their efforts to do so. 

It didn’t hurt.

That was a complete lie but Matt kept repeating it to himself because honestly, this wouldn’t hurt at all once they got more serious, once they got frustrated. He’d seen violent Galra.

This one hadn’t even scratched the surface of what they could do.

“You are as resilient as we have heard,” the Galran spoke, setting the pliers down on a tray to Matt’s left. He felt more than saw the Galran circle behind him, out of sight.

A clawed hand descended on his bare shoulder and Matt tried not to wince as it _ squeezed _onto flesh already littered with scratches from where he’d been forcibly stripped from the waist up before being tied into the chair in the echoing interrogation room.

“We will have fun, won’t we?” the Galran’s breath was hot on his ear, fangs ghosting across it. “I will make you speak, Commander. One way,” the hand tightened and claws pierced his skin, warm blood trickling out of the new wounds, “or another.”

Matt decided that was his cue.

He needed to keep the Galran’s attention on him, not on his team.

Not on the real Plarion.

It had been almost a varga since they’d been captured; he estimated it would be at least three more until rescue.

He just had to hold on until then.

“If,” he spoke, his voice raspy, “that was all you wanted all you had to do was ask nicely. Asshole.”

Even braced for it Matt couldn’t stop the gasp torn from him as one of those large hands slapped his cheek and sent his head whipping in the opposite direction.

“So,” the Galran sounded amused. “You do speak.”

“Hello.”

Matt gasped as the claws descended into his hair and _ yanked _up, forcing his chin to rise and the pressure bringing unintended tears to his eyes.

“You misunderstand, Commander. You only speak when I allow it.”

“Well that,” Matt winced as his hair was twisted in cruel fingers, “that doesn’t seem very fair.”

“I do not care for your opinions, only your information. Now speak.”

“Woof.”

Matt’s head _ slammed _against the chair back.

“Wrong answer.”

“Meow.”

The fingers abruptly released but Matt knew not to see it as a relief, even if his scalp did whisper out a quiet thanks.

Something worse was going to be coming now. 

He repressed the shiver as the Galran strode back in front of him, something new occupying his hands now that while Matt didn’t recognize it anything that glowed purple could not be good.

“Do you know what this is?” the Galran asked almost conversationally, lowering it so it was level with Matt’s face.

He could hear a faint buzzing.

Some sort of electricity?

Insects?

“Oh no,” he widened his eyes instead, forcing them to go comically large. “Not that! Anything but that!”

“Yes,” the Galran chuckled. “It—” he broke off, frowning and glanced from the item to Matt, the pieces clicking a few seconds later. 

Matt doubled over gasping as far as the restraints would allow him a second after that as the Galran’s fist found a home in his stomach and the action had his mangled hand jerking against the cuff and he was almost grateful he had no air as he would have screamed.

“You think you’re funny?” the question was a hiss.

“I… I think y-you are,” Matt managed.

That time the strike was against his face and Matt saw blood go flying as a claw gouged into his cheek.

Ow.

He hoped it would at least scar symmetrically to the other one. He didn’t want to be lopsided.

“And I think you are going to be spilling some secrets for me soon,” the Galran waved the object in Matt’s face again.

“N-nah,” Matt disagreed. 

Screaming though.

That he had a feeling he’d definitely be doing.

Fangs pulled up into a cruel smile.

“You’re a man of science, are you not, Commander? Let’s have a little experiment. This,” he pressed the glowing end of the cylinder against Matt’s chest and he resisted the urge to jerk back as something tingly and _ hot _trickled over his bare skin, “is a gift from the Druids. It contains their shock magic they use to interrogate criminals like yourself. I predict that you’ll be talking before the next three varga are over.”

Matt forced his face to remain blank even as his heart began to beat double time and his pulse pounded in his ears.

He’d heard of Druids’ magic even if he had never seen it. It could reduce even the strongest to tears as lightning seared skin and boiled blood with no end.

They…

They were going to use _ that _on him?

And he…

He could not break.

He could not let them know he was just a code breaker and analyst, only a twenty-five year old human and not the three hundred and two year old Grawlian they actually wanted.

He could not let them know he actually knew _ nothing _of value to what they desired.

Not until Plarion had been rescued.

“You seem… tense, Commander.”

Tense was at least better than scared.

Even if that wasn’t even true.

He wasn’t scared.

He was _ terrified. _

“Just,” Matt swallowed, forcing himself to meet the cruel yellow gaze. “Just excited to show you how wrong you are.”

“Oh Commander,” the Galran clucked his tongue. “This is going to hurt.”

Purple and black light blazed.

And Matt screamed.

xxx

“Leave the ship. We go in solo.”

Keith heard the order.

He didn’t compute it.

If… if they left behind the ship…

That meant at maximum they could retrieve three captured Rebels as that was all the additional spare facemasks they had, one per Blade, to transport them from the Galra base to the cloaked ship hidden out amongst the debris field.

The intel they’d received from Kolivan indicated there would be six.

“Keith,” Kojak snapped, “park the ship _ now.” _

“Twelve ticks until we are spotted,” chimed in Inav. 

“But—”

“_Now.” _

Keith brought the ship down to the debris with a jarring thump. 

He did not release the controls.

“This isn’t right,” he said, trying to hide the tremor creeping into his voice.

He understood casualties. He understood not everyone could be saved. But to just _ abandon _three people like that… he could fly the ship closer, he knew it. He was the best pilot not just the Garrison but the goddamned universe had ever seen and he could—

“It’s the mission,” Kojak said sharply. “Plarion is our objective. The others we will free but we cannot prioritize their rescue.”

“I can—”

“I said no, Keith,” Kojak snarled, the expression hidden behind his blank mask. “I am team leader. I am following our directive and you will too or you will remain behind the ship and save _ no one. _And if you even think to go against my orders and sabotage our mission you will severely regret it.”

It wasn’t just a threat, Keith knew.

It was a promise.

“Fine,” Keith bit out, mind already racing to find another solution. He could give another prisoner his mask and then two could get out. He could take the remaining two and hijack a Galran cruiser; it wasn’t impossible.

They’d escape that way.

Fuck the Blade and their fucking code. 

Keith was going to do things his way. 

Images of Regris flashed through his head.

He’d promised to never leave anyone behind again.

That included these Rebels, their _ allies. _He would save them all, one way or another. 

Two minutes later the Blades were slipping out of the concealed ship and making their way to the base, debris acting as cover. 

They’d traced the signal to this planet and discovered the Galra base upon it several miles from where the beacon had gone off, a grand total of just over three and a half hours after it done so. 

Keith shuddered to think of what had happened to Plarion in that time.

It was their best lead as the crash site had shown several lifeforms from their scans and given the arrangement they were no doubt Galra guards going over the site.

They would gain no further information there without compromising themselves.

The base wasn’t overly large but it was heavily fortified, hence why leaving the ship behind did make the most logistical sense as it would register on scanners as a larger object but their bodies would not (even if Inav was over eight feet tall). 

They made it without issue to a port window and worked silently as a team to suction off the glass and reduce the drag as they climbed in, sealing it up behind them. Unless anyone looked closely they wouldn’t even notice.

Kojak made a silent signal to follow and turned right down their immediate hall, blade at the ready. Keith pulled his as well, the weight a comforting grip in his hands as he pulled up the rear, their steps near silent on the hard metal corridors as they moved quickly but carefully down it.

Kojak led them down two more twisting hallways until they came in contact with a data terminal; regularly stationed at intervals in Galra bases to act as relay points for sentry teams. It meant, Keith’s skin prickled, there were sentries here and while nowhere near as dangerous as Galra enemies they posed their own sets of problems. 

But he said nothing, merely taking up a guard position on Inav’s back as she connected into the terminal to find out what information she could on the base without having to resort to storming the main control room where their presence would be obvious.

“Rooms are thermal blocked,” Inav reported, six-fingered hands flying over the floating diagnostics. “No reads on any of them but we are working with three floors; currently on the second. Level one has the most hallway movement; no doubt sentry squadrons. Level three has roof access and contains their launchpad.”

“We go down,” Kojak decided for them.

Because where there were guards…

There were prisoners.

Keith made a note of the third floor hangar. That’s where _ he _would eventually be going.

“Eight rooms total off of four hall offshoots from the main, no visuals or signatures,” Inav reported. “Two way access— stairwell twenty pylans ahead or elevator all the way back at the other end.”

“Stairwell, spread out. Do not,” and although Keith could not see Kojak’s eyes he had no doubts they were narrowed at him, “engage. Stealth above all else. Move out.”

Keith fell to the back once more, shadowing Inav’s footsteps as they went down the stairwell, a little rankled by Kojak’s remarks but trying not to act on them. He knew he could be reckless and yes, he disobeyed orders when they would get people hurt, but it’s not like he went looking for a fight.

He never had.

Everyone just… just always assumed that about him.

The social workers, the foster families, the principals and teachers and counselors and adults he should have been able to go to, to confide in, they’d always just seen a foster kid with a violent history and assumed the worst. It wasn’t until Shiro that—

Keith cut the thought off.

Not now.

No thinking about Shiro which then made him think about how _ different _ Shiro had been since they’d found him again and how it wasn’t the _ same _ and how much that _ hurt _and—

No.

Stop.

Mission.

Captured Rebels.

Focus.

Focus.

Patience yields—

No!

Keith’s foot scuffed audibly on the floor and his fellow Blade members’ heads jerked around.

There was no verbal rebuke but Keith knew it would come up later in the debriefing.

He silently cursed himself and banished all thoughts not related to the mission from his mind.

They encountered two sentry squads as they made their way through the hallway, but as Kojak had ordered they did not engage, climbing instead up walls with the grips in their uniform and dropping back down once it was safe. Keith thought it was a horrible flaw of the sentries to never look up but it wasn’t one he’d be pointing out to the Galra any time soon.

They had to open each door one by one, Inav hacking into the keypad outside each one.

Keith could feel nervous sweat trickling down his back each time they had to pause, completely exposed in the hallway and spread out so they could cover the blind corners from the winding layout. 

The first room had yielded an empty cell.

The second an almost break like room with two Galrans sitting at a table.

One had gotten to his feet, gun in hand, the second had reached for her radio.

Both had been dispatched by Inav’s blaster before they could sound the alarm but Inav had taken a shot to her arm that seared right through the armor and it was only thanks to her own hard scales beneath it that she wasn’t hurt worse.

Kojak ordered Keith to remain with Inav then in case there were more attacks.

They’d gotten lucky.

It now left them open on one flank but with only a team of three and a base with this design they couldn’t cover all the angles. And Keith preferred this one, this way of being able to at least help his teammate.

Inav could have been…

A little higher, at her facemask instead of her heavily armored body…

The third door was another empty cell.

But the fourth…

The fourth had prisoners.

_ Rebels _.

They were two alien species Keith did not recognize but there was no mistaking the smaller form, almost like a lemur if lemurs weren’t fuzzy and instead had skin like a rhino.

Commander Plarion.

He was unconscious, a compress made of pieces of uniform pressed to his head, but he was shackled the same as the other prisoner; hands and feet bound and tied to a wall.

But…

But what was he doing in a cell?

They’d thought…

“Blades!” gasped the other alien, almost Inav’s size.

She was hurt too; blood staining her front and an ugly gash down the length of her right leg. 

“Has Commander Plarion been interrogated?” Kojak cut straight ot the point even as he knelt at her side and began to dismantle the energy cuff around her hands. Inav took up guard in the hall but Keith was not leaving, scanning the room for the other Rebels. There had been six.

This couldn’t be…

“No,” she shook her head. “One, one of the other Rebels, he… he took Commander Plarion’s place. The Galra think…”

Keith’s eyes widened and his head swiveled back to the alien.

Someone had taken the Commander’s place? They had sacrificed themselves like that?

“Does he know anything?”

Kojak was all business.

Keith faintly wondered if he would ever become like that from working with the Blades.

He…

He missed Voltron.

His nails dug into his palms through the gloves.

Not now.

The Rebel shook her head again. “Not what they want from Commander Plarion. But he’s smart—”

“We leave him,” Kojak interjected. 

Keith felt his heart stutter.

Leave him?

Just like that?

He wasn’t the only one with such a reaction, all six of the Rebel’s eyes widening. “What? N-no. Please—”

“We do not have the time or resources,” Kojak interrupted her. “I’m sorry,” his voice softened ever so. “But we all must make sacrifices in this war.”

And speaking of sacrifices...

“Where’s,” Keith found his voice, trying to keep it as steady as possible, “where is the rest of your team?”

Her eyes lowered.

“Dead,” came a barely audible whisper.

“We move out now,” Kojak said. “Inav.” The large Blade member was at their side a few ticks later. “Carry the Rebel. I have the Commander. Keith, you—”

“I’m not going.”

The words passed his lips before Keith gave them permission but he didn’t take them back.

“I’m not going,” he repeated into the quiet. 

“We are leaving now, Keith. You will be left behind. Is that what you want?” Kojak’s voice was hot. “To botch _ another _mission?”

“I’m not leaving someone behind.”

The Rebel’s gaze, alive once more with a desperate sort of hope locked onto Keith’s mask. “Please,” she begged. “Please. Matteuw is a friend. Please, please he…”

Matteuw.

The almost familiar name made Keith’s heart skip a beat.

It also solidified his decision.

Matteuw meant something to someone. Just as Matthew Holt meant so so much to so many.

He might have found Matt yet, might not be able to save him, but he could save this Matteuw. 

“I’ll find him,” he promised the Rebel, holding her gaze even if she couldn’t see it. “I’ll save him.”

“Keith—” Inav tried, her voice warmer than Kojak’s but Keith shook his head.

“I’m staying. Go.”

“You will be caught,” Kojak said bluntly. 

“I’ll take my chances.”

“So be it.”

He turned to Inav, who had pulled the Rebel alien to her feet. “Move out.”

They passed Keith and the Rebel looked at him once more, relief painted on her face. “Thank you,” she whispered.

And they were gone. 

Keith counted out thirty ticks, enough time for them to clear the hall even slower moving now, and struck out in the opposite direction. 

He had four rooms left to check on this level.

Four rooms with no hacking skills of his own which meant he would have to go in by force which meant blowing any stealth this mission still possessed.

This was a suicide mission now.

Keith didn’t care.

He’d rather die with honor than turn his back on an ally. And especially one that had so selflessly given themselves up to be tortured to save so many lives.

No.

Keith was getting them both out.

Somehow.

He readied his blade as he reached the fifth door.

Showtime.

xxx

Matt was pretty sure the last sound he was going to hear were going to be his screams.

Or, well, the raspy, dying version of what they had once been as minutes turned into hours and there was no reprieve from the torture.

Just question after question and when Matt failed to answer (or answer correctly, as he thought telling them that Xinstheses base was “on water” given the entire system was water based had been pretty clever but he’d been rewarded with the shock device pressed over his right eye and his vision was merely blurry shapes there now) the Druids’ lightning was poured into him.

His chest, his arms, his stomach and now his legs where the Galran had burned right through his pants were covered in angry, red marks that didn’t even hint at how much pain they’d actually caused.

He swore his blood was boiling although his body was a strange mixture of too hot, too cold and all he knew was that it _ hurt. _

It hurt so much.

They’d have to stop, eventually, as they couldn’t afford to kill him.

But…

But Matt had no idea what state he’d be in by then.

If he’d be able to continue to play the role of someone he was not.

Before they got more information (they did have a spy after all) and eventually someone would realize they had the wrong person. 

And then…

Then Matt didn’t know. They’d kill him, he knew that. But whether they made it quick out of rage or dragged it out to punish him for every wasted minute…

He hoped it was quick.

He vaguely felt his head being lifted, no strength left on his own to keep it up, and was greeted by a set of violent yellow eyes, a strange double vision as his right eye tried to focus past the blurred shapes.

It made his stomach swim and he tasted acid bile on his tongue.

“Not so cheeky now are you?” the Galran asked, pulling on his hair and Matt hated the whimper that was torn from his throat. “It’s been almost three varga. How are you feeling about our little experiment? Ready to actually talk and spare yourself some pain?”

Matt tried to say “fuck you,” but it came out only a garbled groan.

“Oh dear, your voice seems to have gone. I think you may be in need of some water, hm?”

Matt would love water.

He did not want it from this Galran. There would be a trick to it, some new way to cause pain.

“I’m not sure how much your species needs so I think it’s better to err on the side of caution,” the Galran’s voice sounded as though several feet away and it took Matt too long to realize that his head had dropped again, the Galran gone. “Wouldn’t you say so?”

There was the sound of clicking, of something that sounded like gears.

Matt somehow found the strength to life his head and open his eyes.

The Galran was standing across the room with what looked like a hose, the nozzle pointed directly at Matt. 

At Matt who could not cover his face, had no strength to hold his breath, and even if he could the water pressure on his wounds…

God.

God God _ God. _

“Open up, Commander,” the Galran smirked. “Here comes—”

A muffled sounding explosion cut him off.

“What the…?”

He lowered the hose and instead lifted a hand to the comm unit on his shoulder.

Matt tried not to hope too much. 

“Lieutenant, status report,” he barked.

No one answered.

“Lieutenant,” he snapped. “Answer.”

Still nothing.

Matt’s heart began to race that had nothing to do with the shock torture. 

“Sentry units,” the Galran apparently switched to another channel. “Perform a full sweep double time on—”

Another explosion went off.

The door to the room rattled.

Matt smiled a bloody smile.

The rescue was here. 

The Galran took one step towards the door, drawing a blaster at his hip.

And the door burst open.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Commission fic for JaymzNonoel(10k). This fic is part of a series actually as the commissioner purchased a follow up piece to it so the fun just keeps rolling even after this fic (two chapters) finishes. I really love writing Matt and getting to write a Keith and Matt fic was so much fun. Nice to whump on others every now and then ;p
> 
> If you are enjoying the fic, please please do leave a comment below detailing what you liked about it (the small details make my day!) Emotional support and validation is super important and appreciated and your comments mean the world. **_Please_ don’t just read and run! Leave a comment! Thank you!**
> 
> And if you really love my Keith angst **preorders are currently open** for my Keith Angst zine, “Going Down in Flames: A Keith Angst Collection” and proceeds will benefit the amazing charity The Anti-Cruelty Society. [**You can find all details here! Preorders close November 20.**](https://icymakesazine.tumblr.com/post/187798555566/preorders-are-open-quite-the-shiny-collection)


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **If you can take the time to read a fanfic then you can take the time to leave a comment. Thank you :)**

Door five yielded an empty room clearly designed for interrogation.

Door six yielded one that _ was _an interrogation room; a figure slumped in a chair across from the door and a Galran with a gun that was—

Keith dodged the laser aimed at his head, falling into a roll and popping up with practiced ease, blood pumping and veins singing with adrenaline.

He didn’t dare risk a second glance at the slumped Rebel even though there was something familiar about the quick look he’d gotten, something that made his stomach curl unpleasantly, because incapacitating the Galran was priority number one. 

And speed was of the essence.

Keith drew a second blade.

It wasn’t luxite like his Marmora blade and wasn’t as familiar as his bayard, but it was sturdy and sharp and offered him more options.

Keith charged without a sound.

The Galran did no such thing, letting out a roar and raising his gun again.

Keith smirked beneath his mask.

Pathetic. He’d trained with Lance; aim like the Galran’s didn’t scare him in the slightest.

He dodged the second shot, closing the gap between them in a matter of ticks, and struck out first with his luxite, slicing the gun in two and followed it up with the second sword.

Dark purple blood splattered the air and his uniform and the Galran staggered backward with a yell, clutching at the stump of where his right hand had once been.

Keith almost felt bad for taking on an opponent who clearly wasn’t used to close combat fighting, but the curdling of his stomach at the tortured Rebel strapped down but paces away and knowing that this Galran had shot down, had killed, the other Rebels in the team and no doubt hurt many, many other aliens in his lifetime quelled the thought.

He wasn’t a Paladin of Voltron anymore, a beacon of hope and light.

He was a Blade of Marmora, and they did what they had to to protect the universe.

The luxite blade found a home through the Galran’s head. 

Keith pulled it free with a wet _ squelch _and the body collapsed behind him with a sick and yet satisfying thump.

Keith turned his attention then to the captured Rebel.

His heart stopped.

That was…

It was…

Even covered in blood and burns and hair longer than Keith remembered there was no mistaking the figure.

“Matt,” he breathed, the name barely audible to even himself.

Matteuw.

Matthew.

God.

God.

Matt was…

The Blades would have abandoned Matt.

_ Matt. _

Matt was _ here. _

Keith’s feet carried him over as though he were sleepwalking, everything going hazy on the edges. He knew he needed to be more on guard; there were still sentries and no doubt other Galrans on the base, but he couldn’t shake the tunnel vision creeping in on him.

“Matt,” he whispered the name again.

Matt’s head jerked up from where it had started falling onto his chest again, relief at the rescue and reprieve from the torture sapping him, but he’d just…

He’d heard his name?

A masked Blade member, the one who had just dispatched the Galran as though he were a training dummy, was standing before him, both blades resheathed and a hand, trembling?, stretched out towards him.

Matt didn’t personally know any Blade members, the Rebels working with but not often along the Galran group. 

And yet this one knew him?

The mask dissolved a tick later.

Matt stared dumbly.

Because the figure wasn’t purple skinned as he’d expected or yellow eyed.

It instead sported a mullet he would never, ever, forget and the most brilliant amethyst eyes that he’d ever seen.

Keith.

Keith Kogane.

He…

He must have been hit harder than he’d thought.

He was hallucinating now.

Keith? In _ space? _ With the _ Blade of Marmora? _

No.

Impossible.

And yet as he blinked the figure dubbed Keith remained.

Well, he supposed there were worst people to hallucinate for his rescue. 

“Matt,” the hallucinated Keith spoke again. “M-Matt. You’re…”

And yet he sounded so _ real, _ even if Matt hated how _ scared _he sounded because it reminded him of when Shiro had first brought Keith to the Garrison, of those early weeks and then the incident where Keith had run away thinking they were better off without him and trying at just fifteen years old to fend for himself.

But it couldn’t be.

Pidge, _ Shiro, _ would have mentioned that Keith was up here when he’d been reunited with them. They would have had to have known. The Blades worked directly with Voltron and even as under the radar as they were everyone knew Takashi Shirogane was the Black Paladin (or, well, most everyone as Matt had to admit he’d been operating so under he hadn’t known the Paladins identities, that his _ sister _ was up in space) but Keith couldn’t have not known. Not when Matt knew he’d have done _ anything _to find Shiro, just as he knew Katie had done for him.

And yet…

The Keith look alike _ who knew his name _visibly swallowed but it seemed to compose him as the trembling stopped. “Hold on. I’ll, I’ll get you free. Just a tick.”

Matt couldn’t do much else as the luxite blade — this alien was definitely Galran, there was no doubt as the blade’s sigil glowed and elongated — sliced through the restraints holding him to the chair; upper arms and lower and then across his thighs and calves.

He probably looked like a deer in headlights and felt as dumb as one as he kept staring at Keith, blinking through the fuzziness of his right eye and trying to make sense of it.

“Can you walk?” maybe-Keith asked him.

Matt gave a barely there shake of his head. It was taking all he had to keep his head up, honey eyes trained on those brilliant purple, walking and movement was out of the question as his body burned and ached and froze all at the same time and tremors continued to shake him.

“Okay, I’m going to carry you then.”

And before Matt could blink he was being pulled out of the chair, gently but firmly, and pulled over small shoulders that should _ not _ be able to carry his weight as easily as they did and yet maybe-and-trending-towards-real-although _ -how? _-Keith did so and began to jog, luxite blade at his side and other arm wrapped snugly around where he’d brought Matt’s hands and feet together.

Matt couldn’t fully swallow back the groan as abused limbs were jostled and his own weight pushed them against holy-shit-was-this-actually-Keith’s shoulders and a soft apology drifted up to him.

It sounded just like Keith.

The mullet felt like Keith’s, down to the fact the scent indicated it had been washed not with shampoo but with some sort of all purpose soap as Keith was wont to do. 

It…

It had to be Keith.

It _ was _Keith.

But _ how? _ How had he gotten to space? How was he… how was he _ Galran? Why _had no one said anything? 

Matt’s eyes widened.

Did Shiro even know?

All questions for later as right now Matt could barely find words to speak and he was afraid if he did open his mouth he might puke all down Keith as the running, even with how careful Keith was trying to be as they navigated enemy corridors, was making his stomach bounce and on top of the pain it was too much.

Matt closed his eyes to try and alleviate some of the dizziness.

“Hold on,” Keith whispered, the words a promise. “Hold on, Matt.”

They were going up stairs, Matt could feel each individual step and Keith’s grip had tightened painfully on his legs. Matt knew though it wasn’t intentional and he did his best to muffle his moan of discomfort.

On step number fourteen an alarm began to blare.

“Fuck,” Keith cursed.

Despite the situation Matt’s lips twitched into a grin at the swear that he was responsible for and one that Shiro used to sigh and shake his head and tell him they were supposed to be _ good _role models for Keith to which Matt had always cheekily replied that he was and was merely making sure Keith’s vocabulary was well rounded. 

“Hang on,” Keith said then as though Matt had any control over the situation.

And he _ ran. _

Matt tried very hard not to vomit. It was about all he could contribute as Keith’s shoulder jammed into his stomach, as _ agony _assaulted him as surely as he was being tortured right then and there.

He heard the clank of metal on metal — sentry footsteps — and then the sound of guns being charged.

And then the _ shing _of them being shot at.

“Hold on!” Keith’s voice had risen to a yell and the next thing Matt knew they were _ running sideways _ and his eyes flew open against his better judgement to see the floor perpendicular to where it was supposed to be and there was a _ thud _as Keith pushed off a jutting pole and they crashed back to the ground in a stumbling run. 

There were more alarms blaring now, actual voices shouting that had to belong to real Galrans.

Matt had a new, sinking feeling in his stomach as he heard Keith curse again and abruptly change direction.

The enemy was closing in.

They… they were going to be caught.

Because of him.

“Keee,” he groaned out the first part of the boy’s name.

“Shut up,” came the terse response. 

As if knowing what he was going to say.

Matt supposed that was fair. He had sacrificed himself in place of Plarion and Keith no doubt knew that to some degree.

A door slammed open, Matt feeling the breeze ruffle his hair.

More stairs.

“Come on, come on, come on,” Keith chanted under his breath.

He was beginning to sound winded.

Matt wasn’t surprised; he was all out sprinting while carrying Matt’s deadweight.

The burst through another door and Matt only heard Keith’s sharp inhale because his head was right there.

He opened his eyes.

A squadron of sentries stared back.

Holy _ fuck. _

He felt Keith take in a breath, felt him tense and heard the sound of a blade being pulled from its sheath, and if Keith’s grip had been tight before it was ironclad now.

He…

He was going to charge.

Holy mother of—

Keith _ moved _and Matt had no choice but to go along for the ride.

They ducked and wove and metal whined as it severed sentries and the hot _ ping _of lasers rent the air around them and even with his eyes closed again Matt could see the bursts of purple light.

Hope warred against reality as they continued to literally dance through the sentries, the most Matt felt being a brush of metal against his back as Keith turned to and fro.

They might…

They might actually…

Then he felt Keith stumble and the harsh, short scream of _ pain _was one he never wanted to hear again.

And then they were falling. 

Matt catapulted over Keith’s shoulders, bouncing once, twice, his own scream locked inside as the air was punched out of him and he came to a rolling stop in the corridor. His vision went in and out but even then there was no mistaking the scene playing out feet in front of him.

Keith was down.

And the sentries were closing in.

He was going to be caught.

Because of Matt.

No.

No.

And yet Matt could do _ nothing, _ his fingers barely twitching and his body crying out in protest as he tried to move, to get up, to do _ something, _because Keith…

Keith, who he’d just found once more, was about to…

Was about to…

Fight?

Because that’s what Keith was doing, leaping to his feet with a yell that was not just from pain and his swords _ flashed _through the air, decapitating all four sentries that had closed directly around him.

A sneak attack.

Keith had lured them into a fucking sneak attack by playing essentially dead.

Matt was both impressed and terrified.

It decidedly tipped in terrified’s favor as Keith raced for him and it was clear he hadn’t been faking the injury; there was a crimson trail behind him from a large gash trailing up his leg and he was in clear pain.

Matt had no idea how they were still supposed to get out of this as there was no way Keith could carry him on that kind of injury and the sentries were closing in once more, stepping over their fallen brethren and reangling their guns.

Keith skidded to a stop next to Matt and with a gasp that sounded like “sorry!” he dug hands under Matt’s torso, setting the wounds alight with a new fire and filling Matt’s vision with black. When it cleared he found himself slung over Keith like a bag of potatoes, one hand hooked in his waistband to keep him in place, and Keith was running in a room that echoed strangely.

Hangar, Matt placed it.

He’d somehow carried him to a hangar.

Matt was done trying to figure out how Keith did half of it. The kid had been amazing since he’d known him, even if it had taken a lot of coaxing and gentle encouragement for Keith to even come close to seeing the same in himself, and why should this situation be any different?

There was a different sound then as Keith’s feet left the echoing floors and ascended a ramp and Matt found himself being lowered quickly but still gently into a ship’s cargo hold and then Keith was sprinting past him for the cockpit.

Matt closed his eyes as engines purred around him, the vibrations both painful and soothing; same as the cold metal on his burns. A minute later he could tell they’d lifted off, the weightlessness of flight even with the gravity-inducers turned on never something he forgot the feeling of.

And Matt realized then they’d escaped.

Keith had rescued him.

He was _ alive. _

And Keith was _ here. _

The boy in question came back a moment later, all of his weight on his left foot as he hobbled into the small bay with what had to be an emergency kit and a blanket thrown over one arm. 

He sank silently down next to Matt, more graceful than anyone should be with that kind of injury.

Matt wasn’t sure what to say.

He wasn’t honestly sure he could talk though, his throat ravaged from screaming for over nearly three varga.

Keith though seemed to have a solution as he’d dug into the emergency kit and emerged with a universal water pouch although like all Galra things it was in a purple container.

“Here,” he held it out.

A second later pink tinted his cheeks. “Oh. Um, do, do you need help sitting up? Or maybe you should stay down? I’m not sure…”

Matt made a smacking sound with his lips and mustered up the best smile he could in the situation. 

Keith got the hint and guided the straw into Matt’s mouth, resting the pouch on the floor in front of him. 

Matt had never tasted something so wonderful.

He forced himself to suck at it slowly and Keith gave a slow nod and left him to it, turning to the emergency kit and pulling out a swath of bandages that he began to wrap about his leg.

“I’ve set our coordinates to the Castle of the Lions,” he said and Matt honestly shouldn’t have been surprised that travel was the first topic Keith decided to talk about despite all of the other things that were— wait. Castle? “They have heal—”

“Castle?” Matt rasped the word out.

Castle of the Lions?

The name of the ship Pidge and the other Voltron members lived on?

That _ Shiro _lived on? Keith knew about it?

“It’s the Voltron ship that—” Keith broke off, eyes widening. “Matt! Pidge! Pidge is up here! Your, your sister! She’s—”

“The Green Paladin,” Matt cut in, voice still raspy but clearer and something he couldn't quite place curling in his stomach as pieces began to line up and not in a way he liked.

Keith blinked, the words he’d been about to speak stolen from him.

What? 

How did…

Matt know that?

Something cold sank into his chest, something that _ hurt _in a way he couldn’t fully describe.

He pushed it aside.

It wasn’t important now.

What was important was that Matt had just been _ tortured _and was in clear pain and this wasn’t going to help.

He ducked his head so he couldn’t see even if he could still feel that dark honey gaze on him and rummaged in the medical kit, seeking out any items of use that could help until they reached the castle in about two varga. There was a burn ointment that would no doubt at least make Matt a little more comfortable and he found, by his rudimentary understanding of Galran that he was learning with the Blades, a bottle of pain relievers and fever reducers. 

“Ke—”

“We need to treat your wounds,” it was Keith’s turn to cut the other boy off.

He couldn’t hear anything right now.

Not when the monster was still clawing in his chest and he couldn’t afford to let it out. 

Matt fell silent and Keith felt both grateful and guilty for it. The older boy offered no protest and worked sluggish, shaking limbs as best he could with Keith’s assistance as Keith applied the ointment and wrapped the worst of the injuries although Matt’s hand…

He averted his eyes from the mangled limb. 

“‘s okay,” Matt reassured him, pausing from sipping at his second water pouch, several pain relievers now downed. 

It really wasn’t.

“How’s… how’s your leg?” Matt asked quietly.

“Fine.”

It really wasn’t either. 

But compared to Matt he was fine and it was nothing a pod couldn’t fix.

Assuming… assuming he could use one. He… he wasn’t sure he was welcome at the castle anymore. 

Because Matt…

Matt knew about Pidge. About the castle. Which meant…

Which meant he’d seen Shiro. The others.

And they…

They hadn’t mentioned him.

At all.

Because there was no feigning the surprise Matt had at seeing Keith there, like he was seeing a ghost.

He hadn’t known.

The claws dug deeper and Keith desperately tried to focus on anything else other than the growing sick feeling of loneliness he wasn’t sure he’d felt this strong since…

Since Shiro had first saved him.

The silence came back and Keith finished bandaging Matt’s chest and arms with the bandages, having to settle for rubbing the rest of the ointment on the leg burns through his shredded pants. 

Matt was still shuddering — cold? — and Keith dragged the scratchy but thick emergency blanket over and draped it atop the shaking form, covering him from shoulder to his toes, Matt lying on his back (no wounds there) with his head turned to the side in Keith’s direction.

He was cold now too, the sweat from the fight and escape cooling uncomfortably on his skin and chilling his uniform (Galra did not sweat, apparently a human and Altean (slipperies) thing and so the uniforms did not wick away moisture) but there was only one blanket and Matt needed it more.

Keith had been through worse.

And the cold of the ship as they flew through the dark recesses of space had nothing on the colder sensation squeezing his heart.

“Thanks,” Matt murmured, and his voice was so _ familiar _that it hurt too, but in a good way, but all Keith was capable of doing was nodding his head in answer, which was a pathetic response to being reunited with a longtime friend.

Keith could still remember when he met Matt; having a completely different picture in mind based on how Shiro had described him, and how _ comfortable _ he’d immediately felt in his presence in a way he’d only ever experienced with Shiro. Matt had grown from being just Shiro’s friend to Keith’s tutor to _ his _ friend and, admitted only to himself, something of an older brother although Keith had made sure never to impose because Matt had his own family and his own younger sibling, but the feeling had been there.

When the entire team had been lost on the Kerberos Mission Keith had been devastated. His priority had been Shiro, it would _ always _be Shiro, his brother, his savior, but he had held onto the hope that he would find Matt too. 

And now he had.

Except…

Except the others had found him first and no one had told him and no one had told Matt that Keith was here and it hurt it hurt why hadn’t they why hadn’t _ Shiro _said anything? 

“So,” Matt’s voice cut through the thickness again, and he’d always been good at that, hadn’t he? At making conversation and helping Keith feel safe and welcome and he’d never pushed and—

And there he went again.

Matt seemed to have been waiting though for some response and as Keith’s eyes flicked over he spoke again, expression gentle even with the crease of pain between his eyes. “Galra, huh?”

Keith hunched his shoulders in and looked away.

Of course it was obvious; the Blade uniform, the luxite blade, the fact he’d gotten them through all the security of the base by slapping his hand on panels. 

He remembered when everyone had first found out. Outside of Allura’s rage there had been mostly quiet shock, disbelief. Even Shiro hadn’t known what to say and Keith had hated that he hadn’t, that he hadn’t assured him right away that he was still the same person he’d always been and the younger brother Shiro loved no matter what. But he couldn’t blame him. Shiro had spent a year being hurt and abused and _ scared _even if he had never outright said so while in Galra captivity.

But that same night Shiro had come to him, tucked him into a hug, apologized for taking so long to do so, and making the promise Keith had longed to hear.

He…

He wondered where that Shiro had gone. 

The Shiro of late wasn’t one who would hug him, not that way. It was all tense, arm-length embraces, and harsh reprimands rather than understanding and encouragement. If it had come out now that he was Galran…

What would Shiro’s reaction have been?

What would Matt’s be?

“Keith?”

Matt hated how Keith _ flinched _at his name, hunching his shoulders in even more.

A new horror bloomed in Matt’s stomach.

Had Keith… had he been forced to leave the castle because he was part Galran?

No, Matt gave a mental shake of his head. Impossible. Shiro would never have allowed that and Voltron worked _ with _the Blade so they weren’t opposed to Galra allies.

Something else had happened.

“I’m guessing your mom, huh?” Matt kept his voice light, tried to keep the heavy conversation the same. “Your pop didn’t look very purple in those pictures you showed me.”

Matt was relieved when Keith lifted his head and caught his gaze without looking away and although there was a hint of surprise crossing his face there was relief too. 

“Yeah,” Keith bobbed his head. “She… she was a Blade. This,” he tapped the sheathed knife at his side, “was hers.”

“Very cool,” Matt told him and was further rewarded by the tiny, hesitant upturn of Keith’s lips. He pressed on. “And here I always hoped I’d be the first to meet an alien. And your dad went and had sex with—”

“Stop!” Keith’s cheeks were high spots of color and he had clapped his hands childishly over his ears. 

Matt chuckled.

And then moaned as the motion sent the injuries flaring and his focus on ignoring them wavered at the wash of sudden pain.

“Oh God, oh God,” Keith was kneeling awkwardly at his side, all embarrassment gone and replaced with concern and panic. “I’m sorry. I—”

“‘s good,” Matt gasped. “‘m okay.”

Keith continued to hover, although his hands were tucked up towards his body as though he didn’t know what to do with them.

Matt didn’t think it was entirely because he was afraid of hurting him.

Keith had used to hold himself off like that when he’d first met him; touch-starved (at least the good kind as Matt could too clearly picture the bruises he’d seen in the social agency’s file that Shiro had insisted they finally record) and afraid of reaching out because of the constant rejection. Matt could still remember the first time Keith had finally fully relaxed with him, melting into his side as Matt had yanked him to his side during a movie night in Shiro’s Garrison room with the three of them all crammed onto the bed, and declared that he was using Keith to guard his portion of the popcorn from Shiro’s greedy fingers.

This was a complete one-eighty.

Matt did not like it.

He also did not like the small shivers he could see wracking the smaller boy — who apparently despite being Galran had remained as small and compact as Matt remembered.

He was cold.

Matt had a blanket.

And therefore a solution.

“Actually, there is something that will make me feel better.”

“What?” Keith sounded so eager to please, so scared again and nothing like the hardened, deadly warrior Matt had watched not even half a varga ago.

“A hug.”

Keith blinked at him.

He didn’t seem to be comprehending the request.

“Keith,” Matt weakly patted the ground with his still intact right hand, left tucked up against his stomach. “Come here.”

“I… I don’t…”

Keith was looking away again, shoulders hunched in.

He looked so _ small_.

“You’re cold,” Matt said matter-of-factly, “and I have a blanket. I also want a hug from my favorite kid brother so…”

Keith’s head whipped around so fast Matt was amazed it didn’t fly off, his eyes wide and lips parted in an ‘o’ of surprise and… and were those _ tears? _

God.

What had happened to him?

“Come here,” Matt patted the ground again. “Please.”

Keith moved slowly, hesitation holding him back just as much as the pain as he maneuvered his hurt leg, but there was something hopeful, something so young, in his gaze that spurred him forward.

A minute later he was lying parallel to Matt, not quite hugging him which honestly was probably better for Matt’s wounds, but he was under the blanket and propped up on his side facing inwards and when Matt had placed his good hand on Keith’s upturned shoulder he had not pulled away.

“Talk to me,” Matt murmured. “What’s wrong? Other,” he clarified quickly, “than the obvious.”

Because as horrifying as Matt’s wounds were, as what they had come from, they weren’t the real injury here.

“Nothing.” Keith’s eyes slid away.

“Keith,” Matt chided. “Look at me and say that.”

Keith’s gaze slid slowly back.

He didn’t say anything.

“Talk to me,” Matt said softly. 

Keith licked his lips and Matt could feel him shifting under his touch and the blanket, hands rising up to press against his chest. “Um… did… did Shiro…say anything about… about...?”

He didn’t seem able to say the rest of his question.

Matt didn’t blame him in the slightest as even the start of it confirmed what Matt had feared.

Shiro knew Keith was up here.

And he’d said _ nothing. _

Matt wished there was an answer that wouldn’t hurt the way this would, but lying would only make it worse.

“No,” and Keith flinched, “He didn’t. Did… did you come up with the others? Katie mentioned the Blue Lion in a cave, but…”

But she hadn’t mentioned Keith.

Granted, she hadn’t actually wanted to talk all that much about herself and how she’d wound up in space and most of their conversation had been about him and the Castle and what Voltron was doing and what she was working on and just goofing off and reveling in each other’s presences as siblings did. 

Keith gave a jerky nod. “Yeah. I… I was the, the Red Paladin.”

Matt’s eyes widened.

What?

“And, and then when Shiro went missing I—”

“Wait,” Matt cut in. “What?”

Shiro had gone missing?

“He disappeared. After a battle with Zarkon. For, for months,” Keith’s voice was barely a whisper. “I looked and looked and…”

“Oh, Keith,” Matt murmured, heart twisting.

To have lost Shiro twice… 

“I found him. Me, me and the Black Lion did. I was her Paladin,” Keith’s account came in short, breathy sentences. “It’s what Shiro wanted. But… But later he… and I… I wasn’t a good leader so, so I joined the Blade instead and… and well,” he gave a tiny shrug. “Here I am.”

Matt’s mind raced to put the pieces together. 

Keith had been the original Red Paladin, Shiro the Black. Shiro had gone missing (_ again _ ) and Keith had taken over, which what Matt knew of Voltron meant the Black Lion had deemed him a worthy leader, and Shiro would have been — _ should _have been — beyond proud of that and nurtured that and yet…

Yet that wasn’t what had happened.

Keith had left.

And Shiro had let him.

Let him leave his side in the middle of a _ war _to fight with an assassin group who Matt knew didn’t take care of their comr—

His breath caught.

Comrades.

Holy shit.

His team.

“Keith,” he hated to change the subject but he had to know, they could still be there, oh God oh God, “my team. The, the real Commander and Ali—”

“They’re safe,” Keith interrupted and Matt thought his heart might explode out of relief. “The Blades retrieved them.”

“...where are they?” Matt asked, the relief trickling away to the moments ago fear and horror.

“... they left,” Keith said quietly, not meeting his eyes again. “Our mission was to retrieve Plarion. They, they did that. And they…”

They had made the decision to leave the other Rebel behind.

But Keith…

“You stayed,” Matt breathed.

Keith’s gaze met his once more. “I had to. I… I couldn’t leave someone behind.”

Something else hung there.

Regret.

Someone before…

Someone before Keith had cared about had been left behind. 

And Matt knew what he needed to do.

He pushed himself onto his side with all the strength he could muster and before Keith could protest or pull away he’d pulled the smaller boy into an embrace, uncaring of the pain.

“M-Matt, your wounds—”

“Shh,” Matt shushed him, pulling Keith tighter and only wishing his other hand wasn't so fucked that he could give him a proper hug.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Matt said softly.

Keith gave a shudder in his arms.

“And I’m sorry for what you’ve gone through,” Matt continued. “You… you belong with the Paladins, Keith. With Shiro. And… and when we get to the castle… you’re not leaving. And I’m having words with Shiro.”

“Matt, no—”

“Matt, yes,” Matt interjected although the humorous response was instinctual, not because this discussion should be lightened in any way. “He hurt you, Keith. Don’t deny it.”

And it spoke volumes that Keith remained silent save for another shudder and the dark head pressed more against Matt’s neck.

“You’re not staying with the Blades,” Matt said softly. “You’re not going back to an organization like that. If, if you don’t want to stay with the Paladins then you come with me, understand? You’ll be a Rebel and you’ll work with me and I will make sure you never, _ ever, _feel that lonely again.”

Quiet echoed in the cargo hold.

And then a muffled sob.

“It’s all right,” Matt murmured. “I’ve got you, Keith. I’ve got you. I’m here.”

Matt’s words made Keith’s sobs come harder.

He shouldn’t be crying like this.

He couldn’t stop.

It had been… been so _ long _since anyone had made him feel like this.

Comforted.

Safe.

_ Loved _.

Keith may have rescued Matt but…

But Matt had _ saved _ him.

And no matter what happened next, with the Paladins and the Blades and _ Shiro, _Keith knew without a doubt Matt would always be there to save him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bad-assness, a little bit of cuddles and a lot of heart to heart to wrap this fic up :) Thank you to all who supported me with comments on this fic. I really appreciate it and I hope you enjoyed it. This fic is part one of a series although at this time I don't have any ETA on when part two will post. Be sure to subscribe to the series so you don't miss it :)
> 
> If you enjoyed the fic, please please do leave a comment below detailing what you liked about it (the small details make my day!) Emotional support and validation is super important and appreciated and your comments mean the world. **If you can take the time to read a fic, you can take the time to leave a comment. ****_Please_** don’t just read and run! Thank you! I look forward to hearing from you in the comments below :)  
  
Want to read more of my fanfiction? Check out my [Tumblr, icypantherwrites.](http://www.icypantherwrites.tumblr.com)


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